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by TheBadIdeaBears
Summary: A short series of fics where Iida doms the fuck out of his peers. Note: these take place in their third year of UA and were written by both of us as an entirely collaborative fic project.
1. Shinsou

"You should have known your mouth was going to get you into trouble."

The sound of Iida's voice sends a shiver down Shinsou's spine but, staying in character, he continues to glare resentfully up at him. His knees are protesting the hard floor, aching, and there's a tingle in his toes, but he won't move. If he moves even a little bit, the handcuffs will clink and Iida will know. He flexes his fingers and toes, trying to stave off any numbness, and takes a slow breath through his nose, saliva collecting around the gag.

Between his lips, it feels almost heavy, stretching his mouth wide but filling it with an unrelenting sphere. The straps are soft but unmoving, keeping him at Iida's mercy. Drool collects under his tongue, behind his teeth, escapes the corners of his lips. It's uncomfortable, it's humiliating and it's got him so hard. He loves it.

"Not so confident without your quirk are you?" Iida's voice is soft but loaded, dangerous.

Dammit, he's right: without the power of speech, Shinsou is putty in Iida's hands. He narrows his eyes at him, almost willing himself to talk, but the ball sits hard against his tongue. Any sound he could try and make now would come out as a gurgle, especially with the plug still sitting snugly inside him.

Until now, Iida has been pacing the room, but he stops in front of Shinsou, gazing down at him.

"Maybe I should just leave you like this..."

In the back of his throat, Shinsou whines, the sound weedy and pathetic even to his own ears as Iida moves behind him.

"Oh I'm sorry, does the slut have an opinion?"

_Holy shit._

Without warning, Shinsou feels a swift shove between his shoulder blades and he lands on the floor, face down, ass up, totally on display. His cry of surprise seems not to bother Iida in the slightest; he kneels down behind him and tugs on the end of the plug. The stretch of it makes Shinsou let out a strangled moan, his body shaking with anticipation as it's pulled out. Iida fingers him briefly, less out of necessity and more to tease.

"How does it feel?" Iida asks, his voice still as smooth as silk over the sound of him unzipping his trousers. "How does it feel knowing I can do whatever I want to you?"

Shinsou groans. It feels fucking amazing and Iida knows it. It doesn't take much longer before Iida sinks inside him, filling him and drawing another desperate moan from him. Saliva runs down to the floor, the angle of the ball gag letting it escape; in any other circumstance Shinsou would try to clean himself up but with his arms bound he can't. Iida starts thrusting fast and deep, gripping Shinsou's hips hard enough to bruise.

"You clench around me so much more when I gag you," he growls. "You secretly love it, don't you?"

Shinsou can only whine in response—it's not a secret, not really: Iida knows how much he loves it. His thrusts grow harder, making Shinsou's thighs tremble with the force and effort of keeping himself from collapsing, and finally, blissfully, Iida's hand reaches down to stroke his cock. He shudders, eyes rolling back, and hears Iida give a low chuckle behind him.

"You going to come, slut?" he asks. "You going to come on your knees with a gag in your mouth?"

His orgasm rips through him, making him cry out through the gag; he barely even notices Iida coming moments later. Iida fucks him through it, hand stroking him steadily until he's a trembling mess. When Iida finally slows his movements to a stop and pulls out, his legs give out and he flops, only kept from collapsing onto the floor entirely by Iida's strong arms wrapping around him.

"I've got you," he says softly, leaving a kiss to Shinsou's shoulder. "You did so well."

The gag comes out, dropped to the floor with a wet thud, and Shinsou flexes his jaw to get the feeling back. Once the handcuffs are off too, Iida scoops him into his arms, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and carries him through to the bedroom.


	2. Hagakure

"I have to say you look beautiful like this."

Hagakure shivers; if she could see she would probably agree, but with the blindfold over her face she can't even look. She can only guess how she must look from the feeling of Iida's last orgasm drying on her breasts and the tacky feel of come on her stomach. She can't feel either: with her hands and feet bound under the bench she can't touch herself, let alone him. She's lost count of how many times he's come on her but she knows she'll beg for more before the night is over.

Without her sight, she can hear him far better than usual: every step he takes around her, every little hitch of breath, even the sound of his hand stroking his cock again. It makes her bite her lip, especially with him telling her how gorgeous she looks. Each time he says it, she feels a tingle go through her, concentrated between her spread legs.

"You really are _very_ lovely," he tells her. "Especially covered in come like this, such a wanton slut."

"All for you," Hagakure says softly, and she can hear his answering chuckle.

"Yes, you're such a good girl," he replies. He pauses briefly before adding, "Or more accurately, such a bad girl."

"But you like them bad, don't you class prez?" She can't hold back a giggle.

"Being cheeky again are we?"

"It's more fun this way."

"Maybe I should gag you with my cock."

"Well if you're offering..."

Iida chuckles again. "Maybe another night sweetheart."

There's a telltale breathlessness to the words that makes her stomach flip and she listens to him moving around her again, the sound of him stroking himself growing faster.

"Open your mouth."

Hagakure does as he asks, sticking out her tongue and feeling the first drops hitting her cheek below the blindfold. She's been waiting for this all night, to have him mark her like this, her whole body bearing evidence of his desire for her. It sends another shiver through her and she can't hold in a moan as he finishes coming on her face. Knowing he'll be watching, she licks her lips, her tongue collecting more of his come, and relishes the little groan that sounds from the back of his throat.

For a moment all she can hear is her own pounding heart and rapid breathing so she only notices that he's beside her when the bench creaks and she feels his fingers ghosting up the inside of her thigh.

"And now," he says smoothly, his veneer of control back in place, "I think it's your turn, don't you?"


	3. Todoroki

In hindsight, Todoroki was told not to touch himself, and he's paying the price for it now.

The way Iida had been practically using him for his own pleasure, telling him what a good slut he was and how well he took his cock... he couldn't help himself. All he had needed was a little relief, and he had been sure that Iida wouldn't notice. How wrong he'd been.

"Now I want you to play with one of your nipples with your left hand and I want you to ice up your fingers," Iida orders and Todoroki whines around the cock in his mouth.

He hasn't been allowed to do anything other than torment himself: even Iida's dick has been sitting immobile on his tongue, and he's not allowed to bob his head or even swallow without his permission. Iida told Todoroki that he was going to learn patience, and that his mouth would make a good cock sleeve.

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

Todoroki whines again, softer, before following the order. The cold bites his skin, bringing his nipple up, and makes his cock twitch in the confines of the tight ring around the base. He tries desperately not to move his hips, his instructions being to keep still, but he wants so badly to move the vibrating plug—whether to press it harder into his prostate or move it away he isn't sure. Instead, he moans around the dick on his tongue.

Once he's teased his nipple until it's stiff and slightly numb, Todoroki hears Iida give a satisfied hum.

"Now your other hand," he instructs, voice low, "heat it up."

Todoroki drops the first hand, letting the ice recede from his fingers, and brings up the other, letting fire simmer under his skin as he plays with the nipple, the contrast between the icy cold and sudden heat making him gasp softly.

"That feel good?" asks Iida, though he doesn't sound as if he cares over much.

Todoroki wants to be able to answer, but right now... he's just being used to keep Iida's dick warm and he knows it.

"Now this is more like it," Iida continues. "It's so nice to see you doing what you're told for once. Don't you like being a good little whore for me?"

The words go straight to Todoroki's aching dick, making him groan all over again, drool collecting in his cheeks. He wants to touch himself so much that he clenches his fist on his thigh to keep from disobeying—Iida will only prolong the punishment if he does and with the cock ring on it wouldn't even do anything anyway.

"Switch hands again," says Iida, and Todoroki obeys right away, twitching involuntarily at the change in sensations. "Good boy."

With one hand on top of Todoroki's head, Iida starts slowly rolling his hips, fucking his face, and Todoroki knows he's in for a long night.


	4. Uraraka

It's been hours—it must have been. Uraraka arches her back again, another little moan leaving her lips, but the movement does nothing to make Iida speed up his slow, torturous thrusts. With the gradual, methodical way he's touching her now, she's achingly aware of every inch of her body: the sting of her backside, still bearing warm pink handprints from earlier; the bullet vibrators he taped to her nipples lightly buzzing and making her whine; the ache of her cunt after being edged so many times already.

"You're doing so well," he says now, voice soft. "Just a little longer, can you be good for me for a little longer?"

"Yes," she sighs, the word breathy and tight. "Yes sir."

"Good girl."

He continues slow fucking her, his cock dragging over all the right places that make her toes curl but it's still not enough. It's not enough to give her more than the briefest moment of the pleasure she's been craving. She feels almost dizzy, her head light and every part of her yearning for more, harder, faster, but she knows he won't give it to her, not yet.

"You feel so good," he says. "So nice and tight and wet for me." She moans again, tugging at the pillow under her head. "You'll feel even better if I do this."

He slides one hand down from where it's been holding her thighs apart to gently stroke her clit and draw a sharp gasp from her. Briefly, she wonders if he's only teasing her, that his fingers will disappear again, but then he circles it, the touch growing more insistent, and a heady rush goes through her.

"How does that feel?"

All she can do is whimper—she could cry with how good it feels, and telltale tears prickle behind her eyelids.

"Tell me how it feels beautiful," he says—it's still a soft murmur but Uraraka knows if she doesn't answer he won't continue.

"R-really good," she replies, her voice feeble as she reaches up to grip his shoulders. "Sh-shit..."

"Language darling," he admonishes softly.

It almost makes her laugh: he's telling her off for swearing while balls deep and fingering her, evidence of other things he's done all over her body. But then he flicks his fingers over her clit just a little harder and she yelps instead.

"Oh my god, please," she cries, her body jerking under him. "Please, I need to come...!"

He circles her clit again and she wonders if he'll refuse her once more.

"Yes," he says instead. "I think you've earned it, you've been so perfect for me."

A higher cry leaves her as every painfully denied orgasm hits her at once. She shudders, his fingers moving steadily to help her ride it out, and she drags her nails involuntarily down his back. With a gasp, she feels him come too, his cock jerking inside her as she tightens around him and his hips speeding up a little when he loses himself to the sensations. It seems to go on forever, or that could just be because he's prolonging it for her, but eventually she feels herself start to come down from the high, start to come back to herself.

He's taking the vibrators off when she blinks up at him, seeing him properly again through the film of tears that were across her eyes and have now rolled down her temples into her hair. Soft little whispers of praise come to her, and she just about understands them.

"You did amazingly," he says, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead, a gentle hand on her head. "You were absolutely perfect."

"Always am for you," she chuckles weakly, his answering smile making her heart flutter.


	5. Kirishima

There's something about Iida that has always caught Kirishima's attention: his chiselled chest that peeks out from underneath his PE shirt when he stretches, his taut backside that he unknowingly puts on display when he bends down, his strong arms that currently have him pinned to the mat.

Okay, maybe several somethings.

Okay, maybe Iida's just smoking hot.

And manly as hell.

"I never thought you'd be _this_ easy to pin down," Iida chuckles, lips close to Kirishima's ear and he can feel his face heating up.

"I never thought you'd be the one to manage it."

Normally, Kirishima wrestles with people like Bakugou, who's strong but not bulky, or Kaminari who's too slender to really be much of a challenge. Iida, however, is taller and broader, his body much more suited to the task. When he suggested some sparring, Kirishima couldn't hide his excitement, and thankfully he hasn't been a disappointment. His hands pinning Kirishima's either side of his head makes Kirishima's heart pound and he can feel his cock beginning to stir in his shorts. Hopefully Iida hasn't noticed.

"Well this certainly seems to have you fired up," Iida chuckles and grinds his hips down against Kirishima's. Damn, he has good perception, even without his glasses. Kirishima can't not be impressed, even as he lets out the tiniest whine.

"It's because you're so manly," he admits, looking up at Iida with a grin and getting another roll of Iida's hips into his own.

"Would you like me to do something about this?"

Kirishima's eyes widen a little; he was fully expecting to have to go take care of this problem himself in a shower later. "You sure?"

Iida nods. "Wouldn't be very manly to leave you like this."

"Then... yes please," says Kirishima, his voice breathy.

"Go place your hands on the mirror." Iida gets up, his weight leaving Kirishima and allowing him to get up. "You're going to watch yourself fall apart for me."

The words send a shiver through Kirishima, his dick getting harder as he does as he's been told, hands on the wide mirror in front of him. He already looks pretty flushed, his face starting to look like his hair, and he knows it's only going to get worse. Iida comes up behind him, chest against his back. One hand takes hold of his chin while the other slips down to pull down his shorts and underwear, and Kirishima lets out a soft moan when Iida wraps his hand around his cock.

"Look at you—already moaning like a whore for this," Iida says, his breath ghosting across Kirishima's ear as he starts pumping his hand. "I bet you'd do whatever I told you to."

Kirishima's fingers twitch on the mirror, his face between them growing redder at the words, his eyes darker. "Y-yes..."

"Good boy," praises Iida with a smirk, speeding up his strokes, squeezing Kirishima's cock in just the right way to make his knees buckle. "You look so good like this—such a little slut, watching yourself." His gaze is dark and steely and Kirishima gasps when his thumb flicks under the head of his cock. "I could make you come all over this mirror and then make you lick it off afterwards."

"Fuck..." A louder moan leaves Kirishima at the words: Iida definitely _could_ do that, and he knows he'd follow orders and love every moment.

"Are you going to come for me?"

Kirishima nods, his eyes glazing with tears and his vision swimming. Iida's hand on his cock is perfect, stroking him fast and insistently until he feels a dam break inside him and his orgasm takes over.

"Keep watching," Iida orders, the fingers under Kirishima's chin tightening a little. "Look at that face."

Unable to look away, Kirishima does as he's told through the haze of tears, taking in the flushed cheeks and puckered brows that soon give way to a look of blissful serenity as he rides out the pleasure by Iida's hand. When Iida finally slows to a stop, Kirishima drops his hands, Iida helping him stay on his feet, and looks down to see the state of the mirror: it's spattered with white, and Kirishima looks up at Iida with a little smile.

"Sorry I made a mess."

"You did," tuts Iida, bringing their faces close together. "So how about you clean it up?"


	6. Yaoyorozu

Anyone could walk in, she knows, and the higher part of her brain has been trying to remind her this entire time how bad it would be if someone were to do so. The lower part of her brain just gets her wetter at the knowledge.

"Imagine if they could see you now," Iida says from above her. "The perfect, beautiful Yaoyorozu, class representative, the smartest girl in the third year at UA High School, sucking cock like a common whore and barely wearing anything."

He's not wrong—anyone else would be shocked to see her like this: under the desk with his dick down her throat, her school shirt open to expose her breasts, half out of the cups of her bra, and skirt lifted to show off her lack of underwear. If they were particularly perceptive they might hear a faint buzzing and notice the bullet sitting inside her. She whines around his cock, fingers digging into his thighs, and hears him chuckle above her.

"That's it, take it nice and deep."

Yaoyorozu relaxes her throat to take him further in, clenching her thighs together to try and give herself some relief. The vibrations seem to grow in intensity and she whimpers in the back of her throat, looking up at Iida again. If he did turn it up with the remote control in his pocket his face is giving nothing away.

"As expected, you're fucking perfect at this too," he says, gripping her hair as his cock pulses in her mouth—she knows it won't be much longer and swallows around it, wanting to feel him come down her throat. She's rewarded with a groan of appreciation and his hand tightening in her hair, pushing her head down more until it almost chokes her and reflexive tears spring to her eyes. Soon, he holds his hand still on her head and she feels him coming, filling her mouth and throat as he growls, "Swallow it."

She does without hesitation, gulping repeatedly to keep up and clinging tighter to his thighs. Her cunt tightens around the bullet and she moans when the vibrations intensify, sending jolts through her. He pulls her off his cock, making her gasp for breath and look up at him with wide eyes; she can feel drool and come running from one corner of her lips and when he smirks at her she knows he's appreciating the sight.

"Did you come?" he asks. When she shakes her head, he chuckles. "Good girl."

She swallows, opens her mouth again to ask if she can, but before she can get a single word out the sound of footsteps comes from down the corridor outside. Instantly, her cheeks flush and he moves back, holding out a hand to help her out from under the desk. They swiftly redress her, smoothing her skirt down and buttoning her shirt up—Iida runs his hands through her hair to tidy it while she fixes the collar of her shirt and wipes her mouth, aware that her underwear is still missing.

The door opens to reveal Aizawa and Present Mic, the former looking even more tired than usual.

"What are you both still here for?" Aizawa asks.

"We were going over an oral test sir," says Iida without missing a beat. "And thinking about some class activities and study sessions."

Aizawa sighs, looking like he'd like to roll his eyes. "While I appreciate your dedication to your positions as class reps, please go home."

"Yeah, go home you sillies!" chips in Mic with a grin.

"We will sirs, thank you," says Iida.

Once the teachers have gone, Iida hands Yaoyorozu her bag and the two of them leave. She's still aware of the vibrator, each step making it move slightly within her, and she stifles a whimper into her hand. Fuck, she wants to come so badly, but...

"I think," says Iida, interrupting her thoughts, "we could finish this off at mine."

She nods, glancing up and down the deserted corridor quickly before whispering, "And my underwear?"

Iida smirks. "You'll get those back if you continue to be a good girl."


	7. Mineta

Mineta isn't sure what it is that keeps him from moving off the wooden locker room bench. It could be simple shame, though over the years he's come to realise shame isn't high on his priority list. It could be because he hasn't changed out of his gym gear yet and he's pretty sure there are sweat patches in places the public shouldn't see. It could be the tone that was in Iida's voice when he punched the locker.

"So, let's discuss," Iida says now.

Scratch that, it's definitely the tone that was in Iida's voice when he punched the locker: Mineta had never heard that kind of anger, that venom, come from Iida before, and fuck, it's actually kind of... unnerving.

"Firstly, you make lewd comments on a daily basis about our female peers," Iida says, pacing up and down in front of Mineta. The movement puts him in mind of a caged tiger, biding its time before it moves to strike its pray. "Then I find out that you've been spying on them in the locker room—again."

"In my defence," says Mineta, "you wouldn't have found out if Kaminari had kept his mouth shut."

Iida stops pacing, staring down at him with a steely gaze, and Mineta feels any further words wilt in the air. There's something in those eyes that pins him further—something unrecognisable but absolute. Mineta's hands grip at the edge of the bench.

"And you think that is a defence?"

Mineta gulps—all power of speech seems to have left him.

"Do you know what I think?" Iida asks. "I think you are the most reprehensible creature I have ever met. I think you're a nasty little virgin who's never actually going to come anywhere near a girl who isn't computer generated or made out of plastic." Mineta opens his mouth, a retort coming up his throat, but Iida cuts him off. "I am _not done_."

The words cut off Mineta's words again, a jolt going through his stomach. What is that?

"You are vile."

The jolt tightens, becomes rigid. What the fuck?

"You are a nuisance."

Mineta's skin seems to tingle; all of a sudden the locker room feels close, too close, and unbearably hot.

"You're disgusting."

Holy shit, did his cock actually just twitch at that?

"No woman is ever going to want to come anywhere near your tiny, shrivelled penis, and you just don't seem to realise that."

Oh fuck, he's actually getting hard. His face burns as Iida keeps going—maybe shame isn't such a foreign concept to him after all.

"If I ever, ever hear of you pulling a stunt like this again, I will make sure that you are severely punished."

Mineta knows his eyes are wide as he deigns to lift his head. Iida stands with his back to him so thankfully he can't see the tent in Mineta's gym shorts. Mineta's knuckles are white where he still can't let go of the bench and there's sweat prickling down the back of his neck. More than anything else, he wants Iida to leave so he can take care of his problem. He doesn't think Iida knows what his words have done—dear sweet merciful god he hopes Iida doesn't know.

"Do I make myself clear?"

Iida turns to look at him again, his jaw still set, but as Mineta meets his eyes, he can see it, understands it on a level he wasn't even aware of before:

Iida knows.

"Y-yes sir..."

Where did the 'sir' come from? Mineta doesn't have much time to think about it before Iida leaves without another word. As soon as the door slams shut, he scrambles to his feet and dashes to the showers. Hopefully shame washes down the drain as easily as jizz.


End file.
